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<title>Cherry Lime Slushee by GoldFrostbite13</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255580">Cherry Lime Slushee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldFrostbite13/pseuds/GoldFrostbite13'>GoldFrostbite13</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Summer Salt (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, One Last Time, Original Story - Freeform, Short Story, Summer Salt, Unrequited Love, inspired by a song</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:01:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>600</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255580</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldFrostbite13/pseuds/GoldFrostbite13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She hesitated, taking a long drink of cherry lime. “I can’t be tied down, you know?” I knew. One hundred and twenty pounds, seventeen years, of reckless, alluring teenage girl cannot be tied down. </p>
<p>A short, original story based on the song "One Last Time" by Summer Salt. Created for a Discord-based writing contest.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cherry Lime Slushee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She dumped me on the last Friday of July, when the cicadas chirped in the tall grass and the sun stubbornly hovered at the horizon every evening. Her scarlet mouth around a red straw, matching the sunglasses perched in her wavy brown hair. Tanned legs crossed as she leaned against the brick walls of the 7-11.</p>
<p>“It’s not your fault, I promise. You’re a cool guy, Eddy.”</p>
<p>“It’s someone else, isn’t it?” I couldn’t look her in the eyes. Those merciless and gentle hazel eyes.</p>
<p>She hesitated, taking a long drink of cherry lime. “I can’t be tied down, you know?” I knew. One hundred and twenty pounds, seventeen years, of reckless, alluring teenage girl cannot be tied down. “Especially with college coming up.”</p>
<p>“That’s a year off, Dylan. And I want to go to the same place as you.” I grabbed her hand in mine, summer sweat mixing. But she let go.</p>
<p>“I’ll see you around.” Striped shirt and denim shorts turned away and melted in the dust.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>I stand on the precipice of conversation, unwanted history spreading before me in the form of warm, joyful bodies. Who do I approach first? My used-to-be best friend is in a crowd, as usual. The girl I took to prom is here too, shiny with hair extensions and pink lipstick. But five years of fragile adulthood separate us like a sea, so I edge along the party, buried in a half-full beer and waiting for everything to end.</p>
<p><em>Happy 5<sup>th</sup> Reunion, Class of 1983! </em>What’s so happy about it?</p>
<p>The pieces of my heart quiver when I see her. Dressed in crimson, hair styled artfully without being pretentious. Her hand rests on the arm of a man I’ve never seen before, with a scruffy face and a leather jacket unsuited to this kind of event. A pair of cigarettes smolder between their lips.</p>
<p>She spots me first, face smiling innocently. She stamps the cigarette underfoot and slips off the arm of her attachment. I freeze, putting on my best mask of politeness.</p>
<p>“Hey, Eddy,” She says. Her eyes are as soft as ever. “It’s so good to see you!” Liar. Such a pretty liar.</p>
<p>“Hi, Dylan. How are you?” My mouth goes through the motions.</p>
<p>“Fantastic, actually,” She replies with a laugh, as if something was funny. “I sing in a band now. Isn’t that great? My fiancé over there, he’s the drummer.” She indicates the shabby excuse for a lover with a tilt of her head. “Hey, you up for a dance?”</p>
<p>"Sure.”</p>
<p>Skin against skin whispers as her hands meet mine, and she sweeps me into the thick of it, bright music swaying young people into each other’s arms. I’m furious at myself for dreaming while I’m with her - of the times she showed me her records, gave me my first smoke, kissed me by the green light of summer’s fireflies. But it’s autumn now, when the wind chills the soul and leaves shatter underfoot. And I can’t have her.</p>
<p>A slow song comes on, and she rests her head on my shoulder. Almost tauntingly. <em>Remember this?</em> She seems to say. <em>Remember when I let you get this close?</em></p>
<p>Cherry lime slushee. If I kiss her now, maybe I’ll taste it on her lips.</p>
<p>But then the music ends, and her red dress pulls away from my chest. “I should go now, Eddy,” She says cheerfully. “I’ll see you around.”</p>
<p>One last time, I hold her in my arms. But in the blink of an eye, she fades away like a mirage. Leaving me even emptier than before.</p>
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